The Impossible Mission
by Aubrey Etta
Summary: The IMF team is faced with an impossible task: bringing down the Syndicate. William Brandt calls for backup, and in the process, reveals his secrets to his team. /Will Brandt is Clint Barton/clintasha /abandoned
1. Chapter 1

"The Syndicate," Benji explained, "is a rogue nation, dedicated to doing what we do. They take out threats, but work as mercenaries, rather than for any government. So the threats aren't necessarily threats to good people. They are threats to rich people."

"So we need to bring them down. Got it, Benji," Ethan said, "The question is how."

Benji nodded. "Right. We know very little about the organization as it is now, but we do know some of its origin story. Originally, the Syndicate was part of the KGB and worked closely with something called the Red Room. I can find no information whatsoever on the Red Room. At some point, probably when the Soviet Union fell, the Syndicate's leadership broke off and started working freelance, not unlike many of the individuals who once worked for the KGB. After that, information gets messy. The Syndicate does not public take credit for its jobs, so at best, we can guess."

"We need to find out more," Jane said irritably.

"Yes," Benji sighed, "but how? I've scoured databases and every last corner of the internet. There's nothing."

"We need a contact," Will Brandt observed.

Ethan Hunt nodded. "I can reach out to some of my KGB contacts, but there's no guarantee they know anything."

"I know someone."

Everyone turned to look at Brandt.

"I know someone who used to be part of the Red Room. She'll help us."

"Well, contact her," Hunt ordered.

Brandt nodded and pulled out his phone. "Barton strike-delta," he said after a moment, "Put me through to Romanoff."

He hung up and turned back to his team. "She'll call back on a secure line."

"So who is this woman?" Jane asked, trying to restrain her emotions. It was a long shot that Brandt had anything going on with this woman, but Jane was not one to take chances. She knew what she wanted, and that was William Brandt.

Brandt did not answer right away. Instead, he appeared to be thinking over his answer. "She's an old colleague from my field agent days. Oh, and she might know me by a different name. Clint Barton."

"Clint Barton," Ethan Hunt repeated. "All right, can we trust her?"

"I trust her with my life," Brandt replied.

Jane tried to suppress the twinge of jealousy she felt. Brandt trusts them with his life too, she reminded herself, he trusts me.

"Before she calls, I can tell you what I know about the Red Room," Brandt began hesitantly, "I doubt she'll want to share."

Hunt frowned. "What do you know?"

"It was a science experiment, basically. Some asshole KGB fuckers kidnapped young girls and tried to turn them into super-assassins. Some of their work was based off of the super soldier serum from the 1940s, and I'm pretty sure they worked with Hydra at some point. I don't know all the details, but I know it worked fairly well. Once the girls were trained, it turned into a Hunger Games situation, and the last one standing got the name the Black Widow."

"So this Romanoff, she worked with them?" Benji asked curiously.

"No," Brandt said sharply. Then he took a deep breath, and the team watched him calm down before their eyes. "She's the Black Widow."

Jane and Benji both gasped.

"You're telling me," Ethan said, with his voice dangerously low, "That you know the most dangerous assassin in the world, and you never once saw fit to mention it."

"She's not our enemy anymore," Brandt started, then paused. "And she's calling me now."

He answered the phone.

"Lovely weather in Budapest." He seemed to wait for the correct response, and when he got it, he explained the situation. "My IMF team is after the Syndicate. . . that's the one. And I know you have information from the KGB side. . . No? Could you reach out to one of your contacts then? . . . You know which one I'm talking about. The one who won't kill you. . . Nat, we're desperate. We need Alexei, if you won't help. . . Thank you. I'll talk to you soon. Bye."

Brandt turned back to his team. "This mission hits too close to home. Natasha already dismantled the Red Room and doesn't want anything else to do with it. She gave me the number of someone else who will help. Alexei Boreyev. He was a military man in the Soviet army and basically acted as liaison between the USSR and the Red Room. We need to video call him. Benji, call this number on the big screen."

Ethan Hunt watched his teammate seriously. He had never seen Brandt take charge like this. It seemed almost like he had a personal vendetta against the Syndicate. And he had all of this information and these contacts that he had never even hinted at before. Hunt knew Brandt kept secrets, but this seemed to go deep. He did not get in the way, though; Ethan wanted to see where Brandt was going with this.

"When the call goes through, let me start. He should know who I am," Brandt announced, interrupting Ethan's analysis.

IMF's view of Boreyev appeared first, and they watched the man stare confusedly at the screen for a few moments. Boreyev sat at a formal desk with a large portrait of himself and a redhead woman on the wall behind him. The only other noticable features of the room were a small liquor cabinets and some unmarked files on the desk. Boreyev himself appeared to be a clean-shaven high-ranking soldier of middle age.

"Who is this?" he snapped in Russian, then blinked a few times as the image of the IMF team appeared on his screen. "Why are you calling me?"

Brandt stepped forward so he would be the most prominent figure in the picture. "I assumed you know who I am?"

Boreyev narrowed his eyes. "I will never forget that face, Clint Barton. You stole my wife from me."

Brandt sighed. "I didn't steal her. She chose to defect from your crackpot country."

"Natalia loved Russia. You brainwashed her."

"No, that was you," Brandt snapped. "But that's not what I'm calling to talk to you about."

"I will not help you, and I will not betray my country," Boreyev retorted.

Brandt grinned. "I'm not asking you to betray anyone. Natasha -"

"That is not her name!"

"That is the name she chose. But fine, Natalia said you would help. We're after the Syndicate, not you. We have a common enemy," Brandt explained.

Boreyev sat still for a moment. "You spoke to Natalia?"

"She gave me this number."

Boreyev sighed. "What do you want from me?'

Ethan Hunt stepped into the shot.

"This is my team leader, Ethan Hunt, he can explain our mission to you," Brandt said.

Boreyev raised an eyebrow. "You and Natalia are no longer a team? What happened to Strike Team Delta?"

"It's complicated," Brandt said shortly. "Now Ethan will explain what we need."

As Ethan asked about the Sydicate, Brandt went to his bag and pulled out a miniature bottle of vodka. He didn't offer any to Benji or Jane, who was right beside him, but drank the entire thing in one gulp. None of them spoke until Ethan and Alexei Boreyev finished their conversation.

"Brandt, you have a lot of explaining to do," Hunt said as soon as the screen went dark.

Brandt nodded. "I know."

"But first, the mission, should we choose to accept it, is to overtake the Syndicate headquarters. They cover their tracks well and hide in plain sight. You should recognize the name Jacqueline Maddock."

The team nodded. Maddock was one of the richest women in the world, and she had often appeared on IMF's radar. Under the umbrella of philanthropy and business enterprises, Maddock ran several underground smuggling and human trafficking rings.

"She's part of the Syndicate, probably in a leadership position. We seem to have underestimated her in the past. She's having a large Syndicate meeting in one month under the guise of a fundraiser. Of course, the Syndicate leaders do not all know each other, so nobody should question some unfamiliar faces. That being said, security is tight, and we can't let them know we're coming. That means their security measure must remain in place."

"Well, that sounds pretty impossible, but impossible is our job," Jane said with a grin, "What's our goal?"

"First, we need to gather intel. We'll send one person in to hack the computers. Benji. Another will need to take out Maddock and her closest associates. That will probably actually take two. That will be Jane and I. Brandt will stand guard and make sure we can carry out our goals."

"No way, Ethan," Benji said. "I can't go in there."

"You have to. We have to get the intel."

"But then who will watch your back and run backup?" Benji replied.

Ethan shrugged his shoulders. "That's why Brandt will have to be our lookout."

Brandt snorted. "A lookout might work when a couple of third-graders are trying to pull a prank on the teacher, but not in a situation like this. We need another hacker."

Hunt frowned. "We can't trust anyone but ourselves."

"I can get Natasha Romanoff to join us. Just for this one mission," Brandt offered.

Jane spoke up, "I thought she was the Black Widow, an assassin, not a hacker."

"She's a jack of all trades," Brandt answered. "She can do this."

"We really have no other choice, Ethan," Benji pleaded to his team leader, "there's no way we'll make it if we don't have someone on the outside."

Ethan sighed. "I want to meet her before we decide anything. I know you said you trust her, Will, but I don't trust anyone outside this room right now."

Brandt nodded. "Understood. I'll call her, and where would you like to meet her?"

"Not on our turf, somewhere neutral," Jane proposed.

"There's a great Italian place in D.C. we both know," Brandt suggested. "She can meet us there tomorrow."

"All right, ask her," Ethan ordered.

!

"Clint! Or shall I call you Will?"

Clint embraced the beautiful woman. She sat with her back to the wall, facing the door to the restaurant, but kept the kitchen doors within her line of sight as well. Her face was hardened and she let no expression through. He stance was decidedly military, so Ethan did not immediately recognize her as the woman from the picture on Boreyev's wall.

"Nat, this is Ethan Hunt. Ethan, this is Natasha Romanoff," Brandt made formal introductions, then sat down next to the Black Widow.

Ethan did not like the seating arrangement. Romanoff took the seat he would have chosen, and Brandt took the next best. Across from them, he could not see the entrance clearly. But since Benji and Jane were just across the street, he accepted it.

"I already ordered," Romanoff said, ignoring small talk altogether. She did not say what she had ordered.

"Fine."

"So we need your help with the Syndicate," Brandt said, breaking through the momentary tension.

"And here I thought we were just meeting to catch up," she answered drily. "Also, no. I'm busy."

"With Cap, I know, but we really need you. He can take care of himself for a few days," Brandt argued.

She rolled her eyes. "You don't know him as well as I do."

"Nat, I need your help."

"What do you want from me?" she asked.

"We plan to-" Hunt was interrupted by the waiter bring food.

Ethan had to admit that the pasta carbonara was some of the best he had ever had. He noticed that the Black Widow had ordered herself fettucini alfredo and Brandt some unrecognizable meat dish. She seemed to know exactly what they would have ordered for themselves.

"Take down the Syndicate," he finished after the waiter had left. "The first step is to take out Jacqueline Maddock and gather intel. She's hosting an event next month that is the perfect opportunity for us. That's all we're asking your help for. We can handle it from there."

He laid out a more detailed plan, and Natasha Romanoff reacted in no way.

When Ethan Hunt had finished his explanation, she said simply. "No."

"No? I thought you said you would help?"

"I will help. I meant, no, you are wrong. You will not be able to handle it from there. This goes much deeper than Alexei knows. He did not lie to you, but you are unprepared to handle the full extent of the Syndicate."

Ethan could not resist a glance at Brandt, who appeared to ignore the conversation and was enjoying his food. Ethan knew, however, that appearances could be deceiving, especially when it came to William Brandt.


	2. Chapter 2

"They don't know who you are," Natasha commented.

"Yeah," Clint sighed. "Which is a shame, because I kind of like them and they'll never trust me again."

Natasha nodded. She understood better than anyone the pain of betraying friends and allies. Before replying, she curled her feet up on the couch.

Her hotel room was nice, if unnecessary since she had an apartment in the city. IMF, however, did not know that, and she wanted to keep it that way. Tactically, it was not smart to have Clint - or "Agent Brandt" - in her room, where IMF could discover them, but even if they did, the situation would only feed into their cover as old colleagues. They had agreed to be as honest, yet vague, about their work history as possible.

Before S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, Clint Barton had been undercover with IMF, gathering intel and supporting S.H.I.E.L.D.'s ally. Only the inner circle of IMF leadership knew just who he really was. Originally, he had been used only as an analyst, but S.H.I.E.L.D. found his position on Hunt's team extremely useful.

"Don't forget about your old team," Natasha reminded him.

Clint shook his head. "I couldn't if I tried."

The Avengers were still a team, though they had not all worked together since the Battle of New York, as the press took to calling it. Steve Rogers and Natasha now worked as a new S.H.I.E.L.D. Strike Team, Barton was undercover, Stark and Banner acted as consultants, and Thor was back on Asgard for now.

"This cover is lasting a surprisingly long time," Barton commented. "I'm looking forward to coming home."

Natasha smiled. "Me too."

And then they were kissing.

"I've missed this," Natasha moaned.

"I've missed you," Clint responded.

!

"Hi, I'm-"

"I know who you are," the Black Widow said shortly. "You know who I am. We need no introductions."

"Play nice, Nat," Brandt said, as Jane Carter tried to back away.

The redhead rolled her eyes. "I would not work with a team without researching its members first. Jane Carter, Benjamin Dunn, Ethan Hunt, William Brandt. I know who you all are."

Jane tried to hide the chills going down her spine. She knew this woman was a cold-blooded assassin, but something in her mannerisms made it clear that she was dangerous. Jane decided not to trust her.

"Actually, I go by-" Benji began.

"Benji, I know."

Brandt clapped his hands together. "Well, this is nice and awkward. Why don't we go over the mission?"

"Good idea," Ethan said. "The basic plan is in place. We all know our jobs. Before the main event, we still have some work to do. Namely, finding out everything we can on the Syndicate. Romanoff, Brandt mentioned you might have some intel?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I might."

"Well, feel like sharing?" Ethan snapped impatiently.

"You already know the general structure of the Syndicate, that it is a loose connection of mercenary teams under strict leadership. You know Maddock is high up in that leadership. During the attack, we will gather more intel, yes? What do you want to know from me?"

Hunt frowned. "Anything useful."

"May I use your computer, Benji?" the Russian assassin asked politely.

He nodded wordlessly.

Turning the screen away from the group, she leaned over the laptop and began to type. Ethan had noticed a gold chain around her neck during their previous meeting, but now, he could see the golden arrow hanging down. He would not normally pay it much attention, but Brandt casually slipped the necklace back inside her shirt, with complete ease and familiarity. And the legendary Black Widow scarcely seemed to notice.

"How long have you two been sleeping together?" he asked abruptly.

Romanoff glanced up to look at him. Then, she and Brandt exchanged a look. Romanoff shrugged her shoulders and returned to the computer.

Brandt, the one seemingly designated to handle this situation, promised, "It won't interfere with our job."

"I'm not concerned about this mission. You're professionals," Ethan replied. "I am concerned, however, that you may be giving secrets to her and whoever she works for." Then he added as an afterthought, trying not to sound too accusatory, "Intentionally or not."

Barton had no real defense to this, particularly because that was exactly what he was doing. "Normal pillow talk does not include classified secrets, if that's what you're suggested."

He made careful eye contact with his team leader, refusing to back down. Neither moved nor said anything for several minutes.

"Here," Romanoff interrupted. "I've pulled up all files I have on the Syndicate."

Benji reached over to take his computer back. "S.H.I.E.L.D.? That's where these documents are from. I thought it doesn't exist anymore."

"Because the files were leaked. By yours truly, I might add," Romanoff replied. "These files have been online for months."

Benji shook his head profusely. "No, no. I definitely looked through those. There was nothing on the Syndicate."

"Maybe because the Syndicate is another name for Hydra."


	3. Chapter 3

"Hydra? World War II Nazi Scientist Hydra?" Benji repeated doubtfully.

"That's the one," Romanoff answered briskly.

"Aren't they defunct? You know, Captain America and the SSR and all that?" Jane Carter questioned, scoffing at the beautiful woman before her. Romanoff clearly wasn't as perfect as she appeared.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Do you watch the news?" Romanoff snapped. "Hyrda's back in a big way."

"Yeah, I watch the news. SHIELD 'claims' that a World War II secret agency infiltrated their entire organization decades after it disappeared," Carter retorted. "I don't now which speaks more poorly of SHIELD, if that's true or if it isn't."

Romanoff and Carter were raring for a fight. They locked eyes and neither would back down anytime soon.

"I don't now if I can work with these people," Romanoff announced, without removing her gaze from the other woman's face.

Barton put a hand on her shoulder. "Relax, she doesn't know anything about SHIELD. IMF is ages behind on that front."

Romanoff turned to look at him. "In that case, I definitely can't work with them."

Barton signed something quickly with his hands, which surprised his IMF team. They did not know he knew sign language. Romanoff, on the other hand, apparently did, and she responded in kind.

"We can catch them up."

"I'm here to help you take down some minor Hydra players. You have to maintain your cover."

"We can still do that. Take down the Maddock cell. We tell them you work for SHIELD, and I've worked with them in the past."

"That won't work. You were worried about them finding out. Tell the truth."

"The truth? What kind of line of work do you think we're in? Just about everything about SHIELD is need-to-know, and we can't open that can of worms."

"Fine. We will-"

Hunt cleared his throat. "I don't love the secret conversations."

Romanoff looked at him with an eyebrow raised. "You should be used to it by now, Agent Hunt."

"I was just convincing Natasha to stay and help us," Brandt explained.

"And, will she?" Carter demanded.

Romanoff turned her full body to face the female agent. "I will. Under the condition that I keep some cards close to the chest. Mainly, about SHIELD and Hydra. Deal?"

Hunt looked at Brandt. "You're sure we can trust her?"

Brandt nodded. "We can trust her more than anyone else."

"Deal," Hunt said to Romanoff.

She nodded. "Here's what you get to know right now. I work for SHIELD. SHIELD is not the fucked up organization you see in the news. Does any one of you have a problem with that?"

Nobody replied.

"Good. Now, Hyrda has infiltrated some all levels of SHIELD, that is true. But that is not your concern in any way. You're concern right now is to take down the Syndicate, which, as I have said, is Hydra. Technically, the Syndicate is a branch of Hyrda specialists and operatives. The five of us will take down Maddock, who leads a branch of a branch of Hydra."

"Won't two more heads just grow back?" Carter scoffed.

"Not your concern."

Hunt shook his head. "I'm starting to have a problem with this arrangement. It sounds like you're taking over. You're here to help us. The IMF decides our missions, not you."

"The IMF is a bunch of Cold War era snobs who don't know what intelligence even is, and I mean that in every way," Romanoff snapped. "I don't care about the IMF. The IMF is insignificant in the grand scheme of things."

"Now, that's not true!" Benji Dunn cried out. "The IMF is the most successful clandestine service of the US government. We do the impossible, hence the name."

Hunt agreed. "You're SHIELD. What do you know about the IMF?"

"More than you do," Romanoff responded. "But we're getting off task. Your concern was that I was taking over. I hate to break it to you, but I am. If I leave this up to you, who know how this will end. You don't know what you're walking into. I do."

"We can handle ourselves," Hunt said.

She scoffed. Brandt signed something to her, and the Black Widow sighed slightly.

"You're good agents, and you do good work. However, this team is a gun, and a gun does not point itself. You need me or you'll walk in blind. And I work on my own terms."

"I don't know if this is even worth it anymore," Carter exclaimed, throwing up her hands. "This isn't teamwork, and we don't know her."

"Trust me, at least," Brandt pleaded. "She's right. You don't know enough about the big picture."

"We don't? Do you?" Hunt challenged, picking up on his agent's use of the word "you." Brandt was not counting himself as one of the IMF team anymore, instead he was siding with his lover. Hunt could immediately see the implications and problems of such a situation.

"We need Natasha," Brandt insisted.

"They're right," Benji interjected. "Without, um, Miss Romanoff-"

"Mrs.," she corrected.

Well, that was going to be dealt with later. Hunt glanced at Brandt, but he did not appear to react to the announcement that the legendary Black Widow, Brandt's own lover, was married.

"Um, without Mrs. Romanoff, we have no intel. We know literally nothing. There's no way to do this without her or someone else with more familiarity. And I'm starting to think the Syndicate is small fish. I would take years to figure out everything we need to know just from these files."

Agent Dunn had been skimming and sorting online files ever since the Black Widow had pulled them up on the computer.

Hunt crossed his arms. "Well, if two of my agents are certain, then we can do this. We just need a plan."


	4. Chapter 4

When Ethan Hunt sent Jane Carter to bug the Black Widow's hotel room, he was not expecting much. Jane knew how to hide some bugs, but Natasha Romanov was a world-class spy who would most likely sweep her room for the tiny microphones. Besides, there was no way she trusted the IMF team, at least not yet. And the feeling was certainly mutual.

Yet somehow, she missed one. Hunt had sent extra bugs just in case this very situation happened. And it did. Romanov found almost all of the bugs, but missed one little one hidden inside a hotel room plant. Perhaps the Black Widow was not as infallible as her reputation suggested.

Hunt was not particularly surprised at the knock one the Black Widow's door. He expected Brandt to want to speak to his mysterious friend/lover privately, without the eyes and ears of trained agents on them. Little did he know, the IMF team would hear every word.

"Hey, Nat," Brandt's voice was easily recognizable.

There was a pause before she returned the greeting.

"Hello."

"It's been a long time. I've missed you," Brandt said.

Hunt noticed Jane tense at these words. He knew she had a thing for the other agent, but did not feel the need to interfere. Brandt had never expressed any interest in return.

Hunt, Carter, and Dunn all listened to the transmission rather than leaving it to only one person. Hunt said it was to better listen for code and that six ears were better than two, but they all knew that the real reason was they were just too curious. Brandt, who had always been so secretive about his past, suddenly voluntarily brought it into play. There was no way anyone was missing this.

"You sap," Romanov teased.

Admittedly, it was a bit weird to hear the legendary Black Widow use such a tone.

"Why did you tell them we were married?"

Hunt was not particularly surprised by this revelation, but Jane clearly was.

"I didn't say we were married. I said, I was married."

Hunt could almost hear Brandt roll his eyes.

"Come, sit down with me," the Black Widow said cheerfully, "You can rub my feet."

"I live to serve," Brandt retorted, though presumably doing as she said.

The Black Widow snorted in a decidedly unrefined manner. "I wish. You never tell me anything. I only found out who you're working for because you needed me."

"Like you're any better. I still haven't figured out whether you're working for the CIA or another agency."

"And you never will," Romanov responded solemnly.

The couple laughed.

Hunt thought that this was without a doubt the weirdest relationship he had ever witnessed. The husband didn't know who his wife worked for? And vice versa? Hunt doubted this relationship worked very well, but at least, he knew Brandt wasn't selling their secrets to his wife. And it sounded like she worked for the US now, which was somewhat of a comfort, though the IMF had little faith in their CIA counterparts.

"Mmm, that foot rub feels good," Romanov sighed.

"You know what else feels good?" Brandt said suggestively.

The IMF team heard only the shuffling of bodies, and turned the microphone on mute.

"Well, this was revealing," Hunt commented, turning the audio of the hotel room off once it was clear that the couple was finished talking.

Carter agreed. "We don't know anything about Brandt. I'm starting to think that's not his real name."

"No, it's not," Dunn cut in. "He told us that Romanoff knew him by the name Clint Barton, so I did some research. I suspect that's his real name."

"Tell us what you know, Benji," Hunt ordered.

Dunn obliged quickly, rattling off information systematically. "He grew up in Iowa. He and his brother were sent to foster homes after their parents died, when Brandt - Barton - was a preteen. They ran away when they found out they would be separated. Then, they disappear from official records. Clint Barton resurfaces when he is arrested for robbery nearly ten years later. He refused to talk about it, but escaped the hospital in the middle of the night."

"Hospital?"

"He was stabbed," Dunn answered. "After he escaped, there are no more official records. Not like the first time he disappeared, when there were still records of the open search for him. There should be warrants and searches, but there's nothing at all. The government either lost interest in him completely for no reason or-"

"They made him disappear," Hunt finished the thought. "That wasn't IMF, though. He only came to IMF five years ago. Where was he before that?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Dunn answered.

"He wasn't on the run, that's for sure. How did he get the job at IMF?" Carter questioned.

"Good question. Find out, Benji. Who recommended him? What's his resume?" Hunt asked.

Dunn shook his head. "I already looked. It's so redacted I can't get access at all. Someone high up in the chain of command doesn't want anyone to know who this guy is."

"He's on our side, though, right?" Carter asked hopefully.

Nobody answered.

Hunt hoped Brandt was loyal to IMF, but at this point, there was no guarantee. Brandt was not to be trusted. Not trusted, but they still needed him. And Romanoff. Just who was Romanoff to him? His wife, apparently. But how did an invisible American criminal come to marry a born-and-raised Russian assassin? Hunt had no answer to that question.

"We could ask him," Dunn suggested doubtfully. "Get him alone and somewhere safe, just in case, and make him answer our questions."

"We don't want to reveal our hand yet. For now, we trust Brandt, but assume he has some secrets. They don't know we're bugging Romanoff's room, and they don't know that we're on to them. We go ahead with the mission for now, while gathering intel," Hunt decided.

!

"Hey, Nat," Barton said, coming through her hotel room door. He had knocked, but hadn't waited for her to answer.

"Your friends bugged the room. I removed them all but one," she signed in American Sign Language. Then she greeted him aloud.

Few people knew that Clint Barton was mostly deaf. He had lost hearing in one ear and partially in the other during a particularly nasty mission in Ukraine. Afterwards, both he and Natasha had taught themselves ASL as a convenient way to communication, and it was pretty handy to talk secretly as well. Due to practice, the couple could easily have two conversations at once: one out loud and the other in sign language.

"Why did you leave one?" Barton signed.

"So we can feed them information, let them think they have one up on us."

"I don't like lying to them like this."

"I know."

"I don't want to keep secrets from the team much longer. My assignment is almost over anyway, but I don't want to leave without them knowing who I am. And they wouldn't trust me anymore if I just came out and told them."

"We'll figure it out. We always do."

Barton grinned and pulled his wife into his lap. "That we do."


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry, guys. After finally watching MI: Rogue Nation, I have lost interest in this story. I no longer plan to complete it. Thank you for your support, and I am very sorry.


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